A Second Chance
by Ruby Rosetta Red
Summary: Set after the events of 'The Final Broadcast' and inspired by Alex and Hal's conversation in the kitchen at the end of the episode. Alex goes to visit her family and she asks Hal to come with her. This is my interpretation of what could've happened. One shot. A long one.


**This is a one shot set post 'The Final Broadcast'. Alex mentions in the episode about going to see her family in Scotland. What if Hal goes along too? This is my interpretation of what could happen. The characters of Hal Yorke, Alex Millar as well as Alex's father and brothers belong to Toby Whithouse and associated writers of the incomparable Being Human. All errors are my own. I hope i haven't made this too sweet in places, i've tried not too. All error are my own and as always, i'd love to hear your thoughts. **

* * *

**A Second Chance.**

He listens to the silence. He takes in his surroundings.

He can scarcely believe it. Does he dare to?

He presses the palm of one hand against his chest and he feels it, the regular thump of his heartbeat. His skin is warm, his hunger is gone. He can see his reflection. He doesn't have to fight anymore. He's human.

He's afraid to be human. He's almost forgotten how to be.

He sits at the table in the kitchen. The room is tidy again after Alex's last eating frenzy. It had almost become a two sets of marigolds job but everything is spick and span again, the dishes are clean and stacked away, the scent of washing up liquid hangs faintly in the air. He doesn't know where Tom or Alex are but he can imagine that they aren't very far away.

He lowers the hand that covers his heart onto the table top to rest alongside the other one. Between them a cup and saucer rest, the hot tea he's just made steaming companionably. He looks down at it.

He hears the door swing open and automatically he lifts his head and he sees her.

_Alex._

He watches how she almost bounds towards him and he swallows. Before, he used his condition to hold her at arm's length. She was a ghost, he was a vampire and any possible relationship was out of the question. Then he transformed into someone horrific. Alex got to see the cold arrogant monster inside of him and for a brief time it became awkward and uncomfortable. Now he doesn't know what to do, or what to say to her. He's part Hal and there's a shadow of the old Harry inside of him too. They make a very odd combination. She drops onto the chair beside him and she leans forwards, resting her elbow on the table, propping her chin on the palm of her hand. Her brown eyes sparkle, a smile curves her lips. Lips he has kissed once and wants to kiss again. Only he wishes that he has the courage to. He looks away from her and looks down at his tea cup once more.

"What's that?" she asks and he looks at her again. He wants to respond _what do you think?_ but he doesn't.

"It's tea. Would you like some?" he goes to rise from his seat, to boil the kettle and make her a cup of tea or coffee or anything else that she desires. She only has to ask. He stills when he feels her hand touch his wrist.

"No, you're okay. Can I ask a favour of you?" she asks instead and slowly he sits back down.

"Of course."

"Aren't you gonna ask me what the favour is first? For all you know I could ask you to perform another dance routine with Tom or to say somethin' to me in Italian this time…or…"

"Would you like me to? To speak to you in Italian?" he interrupts and her eyes widen slightly. His eyes are intent upon her face. She swallows against a suddenly dry mouth.

"Can you...speak Italian I mean?"

"I can speak several languages Alex, some fluently, others I know the rudiments of but enough to get by…" he answers in a low voice and Alex regards him for a moment before she blinks. She sighs.

"To be honest, I'm not surprised, livin' as long as you have, I'll bet you've been to some fantastic places…seen some seriously cool shit.." she straightens up and takes a deep breath and tightens her grip on Hal's wrist briefly before letting go.

"You know I'm planning on going home for a little bit…see my dad an' my brothers…" she pauses and looks down at her hands before she looks at him once more.

"I was wonderin'….whether you'd come with me…kind of as moral support…" she asks, her tone low and halting.

"What…come with you to Scotland?" she just nods and he looks down into his cup again.

"It's gonna be a shock for them, to have me show up on their doorstep less than six months after they thought they'd buried me…but you don' have to, it was just a suggestion." He looks up in time to see her shake her head dismissively.

"No…it's fine. If you're sure you'd like to have me along then of course I'll come." he replies and she looks at him, a little surprised it would seem by his quick acceptance.

"Fine. Thank you." she whispers.

"On one condition…." he adds and it's Alex's turn to be wary.

"And what would that be?"

"You get some new clothes. You can't show up on your family's doorstep in a pair of Tom's shorts and that t-shirt. It's practically indecent." he watches how she looks down at the top, the skinny shoulder straps that hint at more than they hide. More than once he's caught a glimpse of dark lace and been reminded that she's wearing her 'empirically sexy bra' and it does his newly rediscovered blood pressure no good at all.

"There's nothin' wrong with what I'm wearin'." she defends and Hal rolls his eyes.

"Seriously? Ideally I suppose you _could_ wear your dress and those boots again but somehow I can imagine you'd like to burn both of them before you'd voluntarily wear them again. We can go into town and purchase a pair of jeans and maybe a t-shirt or two if you like…"

"_We_?" Hal pauses and looks at her. Did he really say 'we'? He decides that he did and that he meant it.

"Yes, we." he confirms.

* * *

She stands beside the pale blue vintage Mercedes with a small overnight bag in one hand. She wears black skinny jeans and a matching t-shirt. Over that is her leather jacket and her boots are back on her feet but she knows this time that she can take them off at any time. The trip back up north promises to be a long one so that may happen sooner rather than later. The early morning air nips at her skin and she shivers.

"Are you okay?" she turns when she hears Hal's voice and she smiles fleetingly at him.

"I'm fine, just cold." she answers and inwardly she's thinking _I can feel that it's cold and it's strangely fine._ She watches him come down the path, a similar bag to her own in one hand, his car keys in the other. Alex looks to the front door.

"Will Tom be okay on his own?" she asks as Hal brushes past her, to the back of the car. He unlocks the boot and clicks it open. He drops his bag into it and holds out his hand for her luggage.

"He says he'll be fine, I think he's planning on visiting Allison." he answers as she passes her bag over and he places it inside alongside his own. He slams the boot shut.

"Are you ready?" he asks. She frowns slightly and feels a fresh flight of butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

"I dunno…maybe I shoulda phoned first?" she prevaricates. He goes towards her.

"Would he have believed it was you?" he asks and she shakes her head.

"Then it's better this way. This way he'll see you face to face and he'll know." He unlocks the passenger door and holds it open for her. Part of him waits for the reprimand that she's fully capable of opening her own doors but it doesn't come. She climbs in and he slams the door shut behind her.

He gets into the car and he looks at her. He sees the fear and the indecision.

"We don't have to do this Alex. If you truly think this is a bad idea then we can get out of the car and go back into the house. It is entirely your decision." he tells her and watches how she slowly turns her head and looks at him.

"I have to see them Hal…I need to…" she tells him. Without another word spoken, Hal inserts the key into the ignition and the engine roars into life.

* * *

They make a stop at an anonymous little service station just over the border into Cumbria. Alex hasn't really been in the mood to chat and Hal has been happy to leave her to her silence. He parks the car and watches as she heads to a small separate brick building to use the facilities. He goes through the routine of putting fuel in the tank. There aren't many people stopping at this place, they much prefer the larger more commercial service stations further along the motorway. He remembers times before such things existed. He remembers times in the past when he travelled these roads. First on horseback and then later with the creation of the combustion engine by much quicker means. He turns his head when he hears her boots crunching on the gravel and watches her approach him.

"Do you want to get something to eat?" he asks as she pauses beside the passenger door. She looks at him and she shakes her head.

"You have to eat something…or did you finally hit your limit of foodstuffs to sample?" he gently teases and sees the briefest of smiles drift across her face.

"Ha ha smart arse. I can't eat anything in case I puke it back up again…" she confesses. Hal finishes filling the tank and he straightens.

"It's perfectly natural to feel nervous Alex but you must eat. I'll get you a sandwich from the shop." Alex sighs loudly.

"Okay…fine but be warned, I may just throw up all over your upholstery later. Don't say I didn't warn you!" she retorts.

She sits in the passenger seat and waits for him to pay the cashier bloke and buy some snacks and drinks. She watches him as he hands over the requisite amount of money. How can he be so calm and collected after everything that has happened? Is it just his nature or does he really just not care? She watches as he crosses the forecourt and gets back into the car. He hands what looks like a glorified paper cup to her. A short moment later a plastic spoon follows and Alex inhales the savoury scent of soup.

"You can pretend it's a drink." he tells her.

* * *

He pulls up outside of the terraced house and kills the engine. It's early evening and beginning to get dark. Hal looks at the house, the curtains in the living room are pulled to but he can see a light on. He turns to look at Alex again. She's pale and wide eyed with nerves.

"Oh God…" she whispers. He scans her face.

"Just say the word and I'll start the engine, turn the car around and we can be on our way back to Barry. You don't have to do this." he reminds her and she tears her eyes away from the front of the house and she looks at him.

"You're wrong. I do have to do this. I do." Hal touches her shoulder.

"Then remember that you aren't doing this alone." He watches as she unfastens her seatbelt and he follows suit.

He walks with her down the path and stands beside her as she takes a deep breath and she knocks on the door. He waits with her and tries not to start when he feels her hand slide into his. He glances down at their joined hands for a moment before hearing the scratch of locks being twisted and turned. Her grip tightens as the door opens.

"Hey dad." Alex says.

* * *

"You must drink this." Hal instructs and pushes the small cup of sweet tea into Brendan Millar's large hands. Automatically the fingers curl around the cup but Hal doesn't believe the man has heard a word of what he's said. He's too busy staring at the girl purporting to be his only daughter with wide blood shot eyes. Hal doesn't mention that the smell of alcohol coming off him is strong enough to fell an elephant and he's polite enough to ignore the bottles and beer cans that cover almost every available surface. The Millar family have not been doing well recently it would seem. Hal looks to Alex. She stands in front of the window staring back at her father, her hands shoved in the back pocket of her jeans.

"This…what kind of a sick joke is this?" Brendan hisses. Alex shrugs.

"It's no joke dad, it's really me…"

"But…but you're…I _buried_ you!" he exclaims. He gets to his feet and the cup tilts alarmingly and hot tea sloshes onto his hand. He ignores it.

"That wasn't me. They got it wrong…obviously." Alex replies.

"I identified you, it _was_ you…don't presume to tell me that I don't know my only daughter!" he argues and Alex casts a helpless look Hal's way.

"Well they do say everyone has a doppelganger…"

"Mr Millar…" Hal begins, moving to stand in front of him. Alex's father towers over him by at least three inches and outweighs him by about twenty pounds. He should be intimidating; indeed the expression on his face right now is enough to make the bravest man quail in his boots.

"And who the bloody hell are you?" he demands.

"My name is Hal; I'm Alex's friend…" Hal begins and Brendan's expression darkens further.

"Hal…hang on a minute…wasn't that the name of the bloke you were going out to see…the night you…" he exclaims, looking back at Alex.

"Yeah…this is him…" her voice is quiet, nervous. Brendan glares at her.

"You were with _him_...instead of coming home, you let me an' your brothers think you were dead and you let us mourn you and all along you were with _him?_" his voice rises.

"Sir, you must calm down…this has all been a terrible shock for you…" Hal begins to placate. He glances at Alex over his shoulder and she moves closer to him.

"It's complicated dad…something…_happened_ and I had to stay away. Kind of like a breakdown. I had to stay away but I didn't want to." her voice softens and Hal watches as she takes another step towards him.

"You an' the boys relied on me so much… an' I couldn't let you see me as I was, I had to get…better and Hal helped me. He let me stay with him and he took care of me, him and our other housemate, Tom." she explains quietly. Hal just watches her, sees how intently she stares into her father's eyes.

"Don' be mad at me...or at Hal…please. I'm here now. You're not seeing things, it's really me." she reaches out a hand and touches the back of one hand with the tips of her fingers.

"But…"

"What do I have to do or say to convince you? Remind you of Ryan's rubbish tattoo with the stupid spelling mistake he got on holiday, or how about that Decky wanted to go to the funfair every single day or Derek spending most of his time watching the girls on the beach?"

"You didn't come back." Brendan whispers and Alex sees the tears fill his eyes.

"I know…I'm sorry dad, I really am." she whispers back and tears shimmer in her own eyes. Hal watches as her father wraps huge arms around his only daughter and he hugs her tightly, his body vibrating with loud relieved sobs.

The cup ends up on the floor.

* * *

"Ah…so this is where you're hidin'…" Hal turns his head and watches as she approaches him.

"I thought it would be a good idea to make myself scarce. Is everything okay?" She pauses beside him. She shrugs.

"I think so. Dad keeps staring at me as if he's tryin' to commit everythin' I do to memory, Derek yelled at me, Ryan isn't speakin' to me and Decky is followin' me round like a lost puppy. I have to tuck him in tonight. I haven't done that since he was about six."

"He thought you were dead, they all did. They're allowed to feel what they're feeling."

"Hal I _was_ dead." He turns slightly to face her full on. Her face is half in shadows. There's barely any light in this small postage stamp sized garden.

"And now you aren't." he reminds her. She looks into his eyes.

"Thanks for today…bein' here…" she then smiles "and for tidyin' up the kitchen…" she tacks on. Hal's smile is on the shy side.

"I hope no one minded but it had to be done. At least there are cups and plates again."

"I doubt there were any marigolds about though." Alex captures his hands and looks down at them. Hal watches her, sees how she looks at him. He shrugs.

"I'll survive this one time but next time…" he hears her chuckle. It doesn't last for long. Slowly she lets go of him and turns away.

"I think that I need to stay here for a little while." she tells him.

"You think?" He watches her turn.

"I know…I can't just show up unannounced, tell them I'm alive an' then disappear back to Barry again. It would be just…cruel."

"So stay…"he takes a couple of steps towards her and gently places his hands on her shoulders.

"But you an' me…we're still tryin' to figure it out…we still haven't talked properly about…stuff…us…" she frowns deeply. His fingers tighten briefly.

"Your family are more important right now. That is what you must concentrate on." He slowly releases his hold on her.

"I don't know how long I'll be here…I might even want to stay…" Hal ignores the sickening lurch in his stomach at that revelation.

"What would you do if I decided I wanted to stay here …be with my dad an' brothers?" he hears the anguish and indecision in her tone.

"This isn't about me Alex, this is about you." he tells her instead.

"I'm asking _you_ Hal…what would you do?" Hal hears the tears in her voice and he quietly sighs.

"Truthfully? I don't know. I think perhaps I'd look into the possibility of a move further north and see what opportunities are available for me there." he answers carefully and sees how her eyes pop open.

"Seriously? You'd do that for me?" He just shrugs.

"As you've said, we're still trying to figure things out." he whispers.

"Christ Hal…" she breathes and he watches her and sees her conflict.

"Don't…stress about it now. Right now you must concentrate on your family, go and be with them, that's why we came here in the first place isn't it?" She looks at him and her expression changes.

"You were hardly ever like this…before."

"Like what?"

"Kind. I never really got to see a kind side to you." Hal shakes his head.

"I'm not kind Alex…"

"Yeah you are, under all o' that reserve an' all those long words that you like to use…you are." she contradicts and his mouth snaps shut. He hears her swear under her breath and she's there in his arms. His arms go around her and she pushes him back and his back bumps up against the side of the house. Her hands reach for him; her fingers touch his face, slide along his jaw to his chin. She kisses him.

His heart jumps in his chest. He pulls her closer to him, their bodies pressed together. It's not a gentle kiss but an embrace borne of a sense of deep desperation. The first time he'd kissed her he'd been hopped up on blood but this time, it's just her. He can smell her, a combination of faded perfume, of sweat and of the tea she finally got to share with her father. She's warmth and promise. He's lost. He feels her draw his lower lip between her teeth in a move that makes his stomach pitch and sweat pop out on his forehead before releasing him and as she moves away, his eyes blink open and he stares at her, confused for a single moment.

"Actually you're right…you're not kind." she whispers.

* * *

A duvet and a pillow are neatly folded on the suspiciously small sofa. Hal regards it before looking at Brendan Millar.

"I don't care how things are between you both back in Wales Hal but I have young children living under my roof. You sleep on the sofa, my house, my rules." Hal looks at the beer can Brendan holds tightly in his hand. He's lost count of how many of those he's watched him drink this evening. The big man sways a little unsteadily on his feet. Probably quite a few. He doesn't explain that back in Wales things are exactly like they are here. He doesn't think that he wants to hear his explanation that they haven't moved past sharing kisses or the fact that he'd like more but he's quietly terrified to suggest it.

"Of course, I wouldn't expect it any other way." he answers politely. Brendan's eyes narrow.

"There's somethin' about you that doesn't quite sit right wi' me…" he begins and Hal swallows. Slowly he sits down on the sofa beside the bedding and he waits for the Inquisition to begin. It isn't the first time he's undergone such a process.

"And why would that be?" he asks, slowly looking up at him.

"You don't look like Alex's type…you're…you're posh…where are you from?"

"Originally I was from London but I've travelled around…"

"That's what it is…you're…rootless…you're…"

"Dad…you're drunk…you need to sleep it off." And like an angel of mercy Alex appears in the living room and she takes the beer can from her father. Brendan frowns.

"Hal and I were havin' a conversation…" he begins indignantly. Alex rolls her eyes.

"It sounded like an interrogation. He's my friend dad, a good one. Leave him be an' go to bed." she flits briefly into the kitchen and when she reappears, she's empty handed. Brendan hasn't moved. Alex sighs in frustration.

"Dad…please…" she requests. He blinks.

"Okay…don't be too long…good night Hal…"

"Good night Mr Millar." Hal responds levelly and they both watch him stumble out of the living room.

"I'm sorry about that…" Alex begins but Hal shakes his head.

"No…it's fine though I suspect he may think that I have undue influence over you…" he watches her sit down beside him.

"He's protective, only daughter an' all o' that."

"As he should be." he replies quietly. Alex looks at him. Silence stretches out between them.

"Will you be okay on the sofa?" she asks and he blinks.

"Oh…I'm sure it will be fine, I've slept on much worse in my time." he answers with a smile. Alex casts the piece of furniture a dubious look.

"I dunno…it's well past its sell by date, you may feel springs pokin' in inappropriate places…"

"I'll be fine…I think you had better go to bed before your father returns and drags you out of here." he whispers. She turns her head towards the doorway before she looks back at him.

"I can all but hear him breathing." he whispers again and she grins.

"See you in the mornin'" she whispers back and the kiss she presses on his mouth is butterfly soft. He watches her get to her feet and leave the room. He looks back at the sofa and he sighs.

* * *

He wakes up suddenly and it takes a moment for him to get his bearings, to remember where he is and then he does. He's in Scotland and he's with Alex. He turns his head and he hears the sound of the television being turned on and a channel being selected. He watches the young boy sit on the floor by the sofa with the remote control in his hand. He turns his head and regards Hal solemnly. It's Alex's youngest brother…Declan. Hal looks at his watch and sees that it's barely seven in the morning.

"D'you like SpongeBob?" Declan asks him. Hal just stares at him. He has no idea who he is talking about.

Alex opens her eyes when she hears the burble of the television and sees the time on her bedside clock.

"Jesus…Decky…" she hisses and she climbs out of bed and she rushes down the stairs.

She stops dead in the doorway to the living room and she stares.

Hal is seated on the sofa with the duvet tucked around his waist. He's staring at the television with a mild frown on his face while Decky explains to him the story behind the cartoon playing on the television.

"Declan Millar, it is barely seven o'clock in the mornin'…what the hell d'you think that you're playin' at?" she demands and both of them look at her.

"I wanted to watch my cartoons…an' Hal doesn't mind…" beside him Hal surreptitiously shakes his head.

"What about the TV in your bedroom?"

"It's broken…I usually watch them down here…"

"But today we have a guest… You shoulda waited!" she scolds and she returns her attention back to Hal. He isn't wearing a shirt and his hair is ruffled and sticking up and…she deliberately pushes all distracting thoughts to the back of her mind. She crosses the room and grabs one of his hands and she pulls him to his feet. He makes a grab for the duvet before it falls to the floor.

"What…where are we going?" he asks as she drags him out of the living room.

"Somewhere quiet, somewhere away from SpongeBob _bloody_ square pants!" she grinds out.

* * *

It turns out to be her bedroom and Hal stops dead in the doorway, still holding onto the duvet wrapped around his lower body.

"Oh…I don't think this is a good idea…" he informs her with a shake of his head. Alex smiles at him.

"I think it's a very good idea." she informs him.

"No…your father said last night…his house, his rules and this room is especially out of bounds, apparently to me…" Alex yanks at his hand and pulls him inside and she quickly shuts the door behind them. Hal looks at the door and then at her. Her hair is dishevelled; she looks sleep warmed and wears an oversized nightshirt in an alarming shade of purple.

"We don't want to abuse your father's hospitality quite so soon Alex." he whispers.

"We'll be lucky if we see my dad before noon plus this is my room so my rules apply an' you're definitely allowed."

"You've been back barely a day…"

"I was away for six months Hal…he hasn't changed a thing in here, it's still my room." and Hal turns his head and he looks. The walls are painted a pale pink. There's a single bed, a wardrobe and a dressing table. A low white painted book case is slotted below the window and cluttered on top of it are picture frames that hold snap shots of her brothers and her father.

"This is your room?…but…"

"I know... it's pink and that's as girly as I get fortunately, it was a compromise." she pulls him further into the room, towards the single bed with the hot pink duvet. He stares at it and then back at her with nervous eyes and she chuckles.

"Oh…you have to be kiddin' me. You're nervous about sharin' a bed with me, after everything that's happened?" Hal blinks.

"It's been…a while…" he whispers. He hears her sigh and then chuckle.

"Fine...you know what, it's fine. We can talk…or sleep or somethin'" she shakes her head.

"I just think…under the circumstances…perhaps it would be wise to wait…" he stumbles over the words and hates how awkward they sound. He wants this to be right, not a rushed, whispered guilty…_thing_ underneath the bedcovers. He's done enough of that over the last few centuries. He looks at her and wills her to understand. She takes a step towards him.

"Hal…" she takes another step and all that separates them is the duvet that he clings to. She reaches for it and pulls it away from him. He's rooted to the spot. She smiles and watches as he swallows.

"C'mon Hal…" she whispers and she steps into his embrace.

He pushes the feelings of culpability to one side as he slides into the narrow bed. It still feels warm and he exhales shakily. Alex climbs in beside him and slides the length of her body along his and at the same time she pulls the duvet over both of their heads.

She isn't wearing anything beneath that voluminous purple nightshirt.

* * *

He doesn't want to leave her. He slams the car boot shut and looks to her. She's leaning up against the driver's door and her arms are folded tightly around her body. She straightens up as he slowly approaches her.

"You have a safe trip now d'you hear me?" she looks at a spot in the centre of his chest and he refrains from looking down to see if there's a stain on his shirt. He knows that there isn't.

"I will." he promises. A tense moment ticks by.

"Alex. Look at me." he keeps his voice low and undemanding and slowly she does so.

"We agreed that you needed this time to be with your family…to acclimatise." he reminds her and she sighs and slowly unfolds her arms.

"I know…"

"It's not the end of everything…you've been given a second chance as have I, as has Tom and if you still want…_me_ then you know where I'll be. Give me a call and I will come and get you." Slowly, tentatively he reaches between them and his fingers touch hers and then entwine.

"What about you…will you still want me?" she whispers.

"Oh Alex…I will…_always_…want you…haven't I proved it to you?" Her eyes go round.

"From the moment I saw you in the café. I promise…it's you." He feels something shift in the region of his heart at that admission. He feels lighter somehow. He takes a breath and drops his hand and he takes a step back.

"Thank your father for me for the hospitality and it was an…experience to finally meet your brothers." Alex chuckles softly.

"They're definitely an experience all right." she moves away from the car door and Hal opens it but he doesn't get in, not straight away. Instead he hovers by the entrance.

"Remember…call me and I will come and get you." she just nods.

One final kiss and he gets into the car.

* * *

He keeps himself busy, too busy to miss her. At least that's what he tells himself. He keeps to his routines even though there is no real reason to do that but they calm him, reduce his anxiety as he wonders whether he'll see Alex again. He still builds his domino spirals and deliberately doesn't think about her but finds snippets of conversation, memories of her hands against his skin, snapshots of time spent hidden beneath a hot pink duvet sliding inside of his head uninvited. He does press ups when those memories threaten to overpower everything and he cleans when the ache in his chest gets to be too much.

Weeks slide by and he's convinced that she's changed her mind, that she's made her decision but has forgotten to or doesn't want to tell him. He dreams about her, long disturbing opuses where he spends most of the time searching for her and he always wakes up before the end.

There's a slip of paper with his name on it on the bar when he comes in from work. He picks it up and turns it over. His heart jumps when he sees her name and there's a time written down with a platform number. He looks at his watch; he will have just enough time to make it to the station. He looks for his car keys, his thoughts scattering in a million different directions.

"Hey…"

He turns around when he hears her voice.

He smiles.

**FIN.**


End file.
